I know I've been the worst blogger ever over the last month, but there's a very good reason why:
A happy blogger is, by and large, an absent blogger.
And instead of trying to put into words why I'm happy at the moment, how about I show you? And before you freak out, as my mother did, it's the right hand, okay?
His ring is on my finger, his keys in my hand.
I move in less than a month.
I've become every cliche' I hate. And I'm loving it. I do apologise to those family and friends we're both scaring the hell out of with the speed of it all, and sickening with our mushiness.
It's not an engagement ring, to clear things up. Nor is my hand/wrist usually that huge looking. I may have stumpy fingers, but my hands and wrists are tiny. Annoyingly so. Unless you knock a pen behind the fridge.
Couldn't get out of a one room building
15 hours ago